


i don't want to know who we are without each other

by rq_maybe



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, angst with a vague ending is my brand, inspired by Becky's Twitter game, mentions of Ronnie Lousey, post-Survivor Series ruminations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 02:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16714927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rq_maybe/pseuds/rq_maybe
Summary: "I know this will sound strange coming from me. But can you step off Charlotte's throat a little?"Becky is getting a little too savage on Twitter, and Sasha tries to intervene.





	i don't want to know who we are without each other

**Author's Note:**

> Becky is a social media GOD right now but she needs to be nicer to her wife.
> 
> The title is from Ruelle's "The Other Side."

"How bored are you right now?"

The question caught Becky off-guard. She was at home, watching old NXT episodes on the WWE Network, and trying to ignore the on-again, off-again pulsing in her head. Concussions were a bitch.

"Hey, Becky. I asked -"

"I heard you the first time, Sasha."

Asking Sasha to stay with her the week after Survivor Series had been a calculated risk. She knew Sasha had worked out with Charlotte the night before the pay-per-view; she wondered if her ex-girlfriend had told "The Boss" of her plans to beat the ever-living hell out of Ronda Rousey during their match. 

In any case, they -- they being Becky, Sasha and  Bayley -- had watched in amazement as Charlotte snapped, unloading what had to be at least a dozen kendo shots on Rousey. Becky had seen a wide smile spread on Sasha and Bayley's faces as Charlotte beat up referees, then hit the Natural Selection on Rousey right on top of a steel chair. When Charlotte did  _ that _ to Rousey's trachea, the pair had actually cheered.

Becky had just murmured, "That's my girl."

Bayley had scoffed. "No, she's not."

"Not anymore," Sasha had added, smirking. "You broke up with her, remember?"

Becky had chosen to respond with what she hoped was dignified silence, before venturing to ask Sasha if she could stay with her for a couple of days; she needed someone to go with her for her concussion tests. Becky knew she could ask someone from the SmackDown roster, but she also knew that Sasha had dealt with concussions of her own just a few months before; she would know what to do.

Sasha had agreed after just a few moment's thought, and now they were both at Becky's house in Los Angeles, passing time while waiting for SmackDown Live to air. 

"So? How bored are you?" Sasha asked again.

"So, so, so bored," Becky answered. "I want to go out there and kick ass. Anyone's ass. It doesn't even have to be Ronnie's."

"I don't know if she has any ass left to kick," Sasha mused. "Charlotte really did a number on her."

"She wrestled Mickie last night," Becky pointed out, and Sasha let out a dismissive snort. "Okay, whatever."

They watched in silence for a bit, before getting the notification that SmackDown Live was about to start. Sighing, Becky logged out of the Network and switched to SmackDown; she sighed even deeper when she realized that Charlotte was going to start the show.

"Wonder what she has to say for herself," Sasha said.

"She'll probably be bragging about finishing what I couldn't," Becky mumbled back.

That wasn't what happened. Becky's jaw dropped as Charlotte made no apologies for beating Ronda Rousey up, and then declared that she did it for "The Champ." 

"I fought for Becky," Charlotte announced, a wide smile on her face, before basking in the "Becky" chants from the Staples Center crowd.

"Well then," Sasha said.

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying, maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

Sasha shrugged. "You said you'll beat her so bad she would never forgive you," she said. "But maybe you never needed to ask for her forgiveness. I know she never asked for yours."

Becky snarled; the reminder that Charlotte never really apologized for all that she did to Becky two years ago rankled at her, as did the realization that she readily welcomed Charlotte back into her life regardless. She shook her head as Paige announced that Charlotte would be fined a hundred thousand dollars, then groaned when her ex began beating up on the IIconics.

"Poor Peyton and Billie," Sasha murmured as Charlotte speared both women to the ground.

"They deserve it," Becky said. "They shouldn't be trolling her when she's in this state."

"What state?" 

Becky sighed. "Look at her, Sash," she said, gesturing to the television. "She's… she's imitating me! My mannerisms! My attitude!" She pointed to Charlotte, who was now standing with her arms spread wide in a come-at-me gesture. "She's taking my spotlight again."

"Becky, you know that's not true," Sasha said, her voice gentle.

"Please," she scoffed. "Even if that's not her intention, that's what's happening." To Becky's horror, she felt tears began to form in her eyes. "I worked so hard to get to this point and she's just… she's just there and she's going to take my spot again, and she'll go to WrestleMania to face Ronnie Lousey and I'll be stuck in the pre-show again and - "

"All right, calm down," Sasha said, snatching the remote and turning off the television. "That's the concussion talking. You need to rest, come on."

Becky didn't have the energy to argue. She went with Sasha to her bedroom, and lied down as her friend closed the drapes, shutting out all light. 

"Go to sleep, Becks," Sasha said. "Call me if you need anything, okay? I'm gonna watch the rest of the show."

Becky nodded. "Thanks, Boss," she said quietly. When Sasha had closed the door behind her, Becky went for her phone and checked Twitter. She bit her lip as she saw the praise pouring in for Charlotte, even as she saw some of her own fans questioning the change in the Queen's character. When she saw a fan ask if she was going to make an appearance on SmackDown, she pounced.

"I think I already have. Got fined 100,000 and beat the IIconics apparently," she replied.

She bit her lip as the likes and retweets began to roll in, with her fans calling Charlotte a knockoff of her. Becky sighed again, then pulled up the picture that Sasha had taken of her earlier that day, when they had gone to a lab for her concussion tests.

"This is me right now trying to get out of doctor jail so I can remind some people exactly who I am," she posted.

Becky closed her eyes. She couldn't let them forget her. She couldn't let them forget what happened. She couldn't let them forget that it was supposed to be her who faced Ronnie Lousey; she couldn't let them forget that she was all set to make the UFC quitter tap to her before fucking Nia Jax had ruined all her plans. She couldn't let them forget that  _ she _ was the one who chose Charlotte in the first place… 

Then Charlotte's words, unbidden, floated up her beaten-up brain again.

_ I did it for the Champ. _

Becky closed her eyes tighter and willed herself to sleep.

*

"It's literally six in the morning and you are already on your phone," Sasha complained. "The doctors said not to over exert yourself, and yet here you are."

"I'm not even doing anything," Becky said defensively. "I'm just checking Twitter."

"Please, Becky, don't think I didn't see your tweets from last night. And I checked your profile again this morning -- your location, really?"

"No one notices them."

Sasha scoffed. "Everyone notices them! They're literally all that everyone can talk about nowadays. 'Oh, Becky is so  _ savage _ on Twitter. Oh look at Becky owning Ronnie again! Oh now she's dragging Charlotte, too!'" 

Becky stayed silent, opting to instead pour more cereal into her bowl. As she reached out for milk, she heard Sasha sigh loudly. 

"What?" she asked.

"I know this will sound strange coming from me," Sasha began. "But can you step off Charlotte's throat a little? She literally just said she tried to murder Rousey for you. Surely that has to mean  _ something. _ "

"Yeah," Becky answered. "It means she wants to take my spot and get the match that I worked so hard for."

"You  _ picked _ her to replace you!"

"Because I thought she could win it for SmackDown! I didn't expect her to go bonkers on Ronnie like that!"

"Becky," Sasha said. "You told her to  _ beat Ronda _ , the way  _ you _ were gonna beat Ronda."

Silence.

"What did you tell her, huh, when you hugged her?"

Silence, again.

"Becks?"

"Okay, I told her that I trusted her and I knew she could do it, I knew she could kick Ronda's ass," Becky finally answered. "I didn't expect her to do it quite so literally." 

Sasha was silent for a minute. Then: "Okay, I know this will sound strange coming from me."

"You already said that."

" _ Listen _ ," Sasha said. "I think Charlotte… I think this is her way of trying to get your attention. It's… fucked up, it's messy, and it's stupid, but what else can we expect from the two of you?"

"Why would she want to get my attention?" Becky asked. "She has all of it. Always. She knows that."

"No, she doesn't," Sasha said sharply. "Because after Evolution, you moved on to challenging Rousey so fast, it probably gave you whiplash. You barely mentioned her. And you know that losing to you really,  _ really _ got to her." Sasha took a deep breath. "I saw how she reacted. After you got injured at RAW. She was panicking and - she wanted to go to you immediately, but you brushed her off."

"Sash, I gotta be honest with you, I was on auto-pilot then. I had no idea what was going on until I stepped back through the curtain."

"So you didn't see her spear Nia?" Sasha asked, pointedly.

Becky fidgeted. "It may have been… pointed out to me… afterwards," she answered. "What the hell are you trying to say, Boss? You're giving me a headache."

Sasha looked at Becky straight in the eye. "I'm saying. That maybe you two need to talk about this. Face to face. Have you talked to her  _ at all _ ? After Evolution?"

Becky's silence told Sasha all she needed to know.

"Change your Twitter profile and your location," Sasha said, nodding in the direction of Becky's phone. "She doesn't deserve anymore of this, Becks, you kicked her ass for months and she's still willing to decimate people for your honor."

"I never asked her to do that."

"You didn't need to," Sasha said, her voice quiet. "She will do it for you, no questions asked, because she thinks it'll make things better. She doesn't want your spotlight, Becks. She wants  _ you _ ."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't," Sasha agreed, almost immediately. "But maybe if you talk to her,  _ you _ will know."

The ringing of the doorbell startled them both. Becky frowned.

"Did you order anything?"

"No," Sasha said, but she stood up and went to the door, anyway. "I'll get it."

Becky nodded, and began eating her cereal. She pondered Sasha's words as she chewed -- could it be possible? There was a time when she wouldn't even question Charlotte's motives; she would just know that Charlotte would want the best for her, for  _ them _ . But after Summer Slam, she didn't know anymore. There was nothing certain in their relationship; Becky felt as though she and Charlotte were standing on a rock that was slowly sinking on molten lava, and they needed each other to survive, but neither one wanted to reach out first.

Could it be possible? Was Charlotte really just trying to reach out to her -- and in the only way that she knew how? Becky knew she had pushed Charlotte in the months after Summer Slam, but she didn't know that she had pushed Charlotte all the way to the edge.

She sighed again, and pushed the bow of cereal away. This was giving her a headache. She checked her Twitter again, hesitated briefly, then changed her profile and location.

"Fine," she mumbled. "It's not fun when she's not replying, anyway."

She thought for a moment, then decided to ride along with the fans' comments.  _ Who came here for the sick burns _ , she typed out, then switched her location to "Ronnie's nightmares." There. That should be good enough for Sasha.

Speaking of which, where was the Boss? Surely it didn't take her that long to answer the door?

Becky stood up and dropped her bowl and spoon to the sink, before moving to her living room. "Sasha?" she called out. "What was it? Who was at the --"

She stuttered to a stop.

_ Am I seeing things, _ Becky thought.  _ How badly concussed am I? _

Because, unless her eyes were deceiving her, that was Charlotte Flair in her living room, with a smirking Sasha Banks standing next to her. Charlotte, who looked soft and uncertain and tense, the complete opposite of how she had been the night before on SmackDown. Charlotte, who wasn't supposed to be there, because --

"I thought you had a flight to North Carolina," Becky said, stupidly.

Charlotte blushed at that, then nodded. "It's not for another five hours," she answered softly. "I wanted to check on you first before going to LAX."

Becky didn't know what to say; she looked at Sasha in near panic, but her friend was just smiling cheerfully.

"Well!" Sasha said. "It's a good thing you dropped by, Char, I had just gotten a message from Bayley and she's invited me over for Thanksgiving dinner. So I will see you both later, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer from either of them, Sasha grabbed her purse and dashed out the door. Seconds later, she came back, and said: "I better not come back to a murder scene, Becky."

"How come I'm the only one you warned?" Becky demanded, but Sasha was already waving goodbye and closing the door. Seconds later, they could hear her car starting.

Silence. Awkward, painful, tense silence. It was the first time they had been alone in a room together, since before Evolution. 

Becky fidgeted, and grabbed the back of her neck; it was a nervous tic she had never been able to shake.

Charlotte stared at the floor.

Becky bit her lip, then blew out a breath. One of them was going to have to be brave, and it was going to be her. She was the champion, after all.

"So," she finally said, breaking into a small, tentative smile. "You did it for the champ, huh?"

At her words, Charlotte looked up. Her smile matched Becky's, at first, then it grew wider. "You know it, Becky."

This time, Becky's grin was blinding. She reached out to Charlotte, took her hand, and led her to the couch. They had plenty to talk about -- might as well be comfortable. For the first time in a while -- for the first time since Summer Slam -- she felt something that felt like peace rushing through her veins. Something that felt like… contentment. 

Becky smiled at Charlotte again, relieved to see that the other woman was smiling back. She had a feeling that Charlotte was going to miss her flight. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was actually inspired by a question sent to my friend Sam (flairfatale), and her subsequent answer: "someone (probably Sasha) needs to go to Becky and smack her phone out of her hand and be like “stop being RUDE to your wife she committed MURDER for you” because Becky needs to CHILL a little. she can go in on anyone else, but she needs to lay off of Charlotte tbh"
> 
> Sasha Banks cares 2k18
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at rebeccaquinoa


End file.
